


Climb Through the Tide

by Anonymous



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is ending. Kaiju are coming quicker with every passing month, leaving cities destroyed and countless lives lost in their wake. Shatterdomes all across the Pacific are being shut down and the Coastal Wall is being promised as the protection that will keep the world safe, but there are people out there who know it isn't going to work. Ian Gallagher is one of them. Ian has spent the last year alone with his brother, Lip Gallagher, making a name for themselves as some of the best jaeger pilots the world has seen yet. Now, though, Ian is without his brother, without a co-pilot, and without hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I did this as part of the [Shameless Big Bang](http://shamelessbigbang.tumblr.com), you can see the artwork below for this fic below, it was done by the lovely and talented [ppersephone](http://ppersephone.tumblr.com) and I can't even tell you how excited I was to get it! The ever-badass and talented [liniochtai](http://liniochtai.tumblr.com) was my beautiful beta and suffered through many late night/early morning brainstorming texts and general whining from me so that this fic would be suitable to see the light of day.
> 
> Due to some technical issues (tablet breaking before I'd uploaded everything onto drive) I've only got the first pieces of this which were done on computer for you today, but in the next few days hopefully my tablet will be fixed and I'll be able to upload the rest! I really am sorry, I appreciate everyone's patience and hopefully you still enjoy what's here so far.
> 
> Something to note: I'm aware people have varying experiences when it comes to bipolar disorder, and my portrayal of it is closely tied to my mother's experiences with it, not because that's necessarily how he canonically experiences it (in the series his manic episodes tend to be much more long term, it seems) but because that's what I felt most confident portraying with accuracy any respect.
> 
> Additional warnings: A lot of foul language, mentions and flashbacks to various forms of abuse, substance abuse, a lot of internalized and outright homophobia from the Milkovich family.

OCTOBER 31, 2024  
05:47

 

The kaiju alert system alarm is blaring in their room and throughout the shatterdome. Ian wakes up to adrenaline flooding his system, heart beating hard and fast. It might sound crazy, but he loves this feeling.  
"Action in the breach!" He shouts, hopping down from his bunk and giving Lip's mattress a kick. "Move your ass!" He's already shutting the bathroom door behind him when he hears his brother groaning behind him.  
"What fucking time is it?" Comes Lip's voice, still muffled by the pilow.  
"Five-forty seven." Ian says, grinning to himself in the mirror. 

Despite Lip's complaining it doesn't actually take them long to get ready. They're out the door and headed for their hanger in no time, swaggering down the hall with the confidence only possessed by those who have, in their own minds, proven themselves invincible. Really, they're about as close as it's possible to get. When they're in a jaeger, together, they feel like gods. They can stand up to natural disasters, wage war against nightmares with their fists and come away victorious. 

They're suited up, the neural gel draining from their masks and Kev's voice ringing through their comms.

"Ready boys?" Ian and Lip share a look and grin.  
"Yeah." Ian says. "We're ready."

"Drift initiation in three," 

Ian takes a deep, steadying breath and lets his mind clear.

"Two,"

"One."

The force of the drift always knocks him back a little, he used to find it disconcerting, but now it feels comfortable, a little like coming home. Familiar memories rush past him and he feels Lip's conciousness settling over his mind, almost like something he can reach out and touch. Some people hear about the drift and think it must be a burden, to share so many feelings and memories with someone, to lose the ability to hide and become completely vulnerable to someone else, they aren't wrong, but what Ian has gained in return he would never trade for the world. The complete and total acceptance of another person, a safe space, and a synchronity when they fight that almost feels like a unified clairvoyance. It's beyond anything he could've wanted. 

The choppers drop them three-hundred metres deep off the coastline and when they feel the steel of their jaeger's feet hitting the ocean floor it vibrates up their bones and the nervous anticipation grows.

"Reckless Victor, we've got a lock on the Kaiju's signal, it's approaching quick. Eight-hundred metres, seven-fifty, six-fifty, coming in fast boys, brace yourselves." They do. Ian doesn't need to look over to see Lip's concentrated grin, he can practically feel it. Kev keeps counting down over the radio and seconds later they see a familiar glow under the water. Fiend, they've codenamed it, rears up out of the water with a horrible shriek. It's hideous. A head like an axe, spikes running down it's spine, and some kind of glowing sac under it's neck. They already know to take extra care of that.

They pull back their right arms and Victor's plasma cannon starts charging, when Fiend lunges forwards they're ready for it. Victor’s right arm shoots out, grabbing the beast by the neck and squeezing, hard. Two long, clawed arms scrape down the back of the Jaeger but they slam the right arm up into the Kaiju's gut and fire off the plasma canon one, two, three times. The Kaiju rips backwards out of their grip and staggers, screeching in pain, but doesn't fall. Victor moves forwards grabs it by the back of the skull and pulls it into their other fist. They can almost feel the bones cracking under their knuckles. The Kaiju wails and falls back into the water, a glowing pool of blue spreading around it, but they're still picking up signals of life.

When it lurches up out of the water again and lunges for them they're ready for it. They pound into the skull and when the creature stumbles back for a moment, stunned, they sharpen the tips of Victor's fingers and reach around, digging their fingers in past the flesh of the creature, wrapping steel fingers around the spine and pulling back as hard as they can. The sound that echoes through the air is simultanously sickening and satisfying. The kaiju falls for the last time and there's a beat of somber silence before the feeling of their shared victory, power, success fills him. They've saved the world again, Ian feels the best he's ever felt.

This, he thinks as he looks over at Lip's smirk and feels everything he wants to say, is how he wants to feel forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fair warning: I'm mostly just hoping this doesn't come off as forced because I did my best to stick to the Pacific Rim timeline, and condensing Ian and Mickey's relationship issues into such a narrow time frame? Not easy.

:::DECEMBER 24, 2024:::

"You sure you're okay, kid?" Fiona asks, it feels like the millionth time even though it's the first, but he's been asking himself the same question for a while now. He does his best to grin reassuringly. He knows she wants to help, but what he needs right now is not to feel like a burden on anyone, least of all her. She's got enough to deal with already.  
"I'm good, Fiona. I promise, just needed to let off some steam, you know?" She eyes him like she's not quite convinced, but it's enough that she drops the issue. He's always counted himself lucky for the fact that she understands him well enough to know when he'd rather have his space, and for the fact that he does a good enough job pretending that's all he needs.   
"Alright, I'm gonna' bring the kids over for a visit tomorrow, sounds good?" Ian rolls his eyes and sighs like it's a burden, but he can't help the smile that creeps across his face.  
"You really don't have to do that, I'm really okay." Fiona gives his shoulder a playful shove.  
"Don't pretend you aren't dying to see everyone again. I know you miss us." They both laugh and Fiona pulls him in for a tight hug.   
"I guess I could stand to see a little more of you." Fiona smiles into his neck and pulls back, gripping both his shoulders.  
"You'll call me if you need anything, promise." She demands. Ian sighs and smiles.   
"I promise Fiona, see you tomorrow." She nods.  
"See ya, don't get into any trouble!" She shouts at him just as he's getting out of the car.  
"I think I'm probably already in enough trouble as it is." He laughs and slams the car door shut behind him. 

Fiona watches Ian walking back towards the main gates of the Shatterdome and wishes she knew what to do for him. There's something bothering him more than he's willing to let on about, she'd have to be blind not to see it. All she can do is hope that she isn't hurting him more than helping him by giving him his space. Ian's always needed a little more room to breathe than the rest of the kids, herself included, but sometimes the distance makes her worried. She's scared that she's only backing off because she doesn't know what else to do.

She sighs, puts the car in gear, and tells herself she's doing the best she knows how to for him, and the best he'll let her do at arm’s length, and that's all there is for it. He'll come to her when he needs to.

:::

"Ranger Gallagher!" Comes Marshall Johnson's stern and, Ian notes, more than slightly unhappy voice from down the hall. It takes all of his self control not to throw back his head with a sigh. He'd been really hoping to duck into his room before anyone came looking for him. Fiona's company had helped to mellow him out a little, but he's still tired and stressed and more than a little sick feeling. All he wants is five minutes alone and a shower.  
"Marshall!" He turns on his heel, mustering all the energy he can, which isn't much, into a salute. Marshall Johnson does  
not look impressed.  
"Where the hell have you been?" The thinly concealed venom in her voice is almost enough to send a chill down Ian's spine.  
"Blowing off a little steam, mam." He knows already that answer isn't going to go over well, but it'll still be more acceptable than the truth. The Marshall's eyes sharpened, and for a second Ian worries she might actually smack him over the head right there, but instead she raises a warning finger to his chest.  
"Do I need to remind you, Ranger, that you are not irreplaceable?" Ian swallowed around the lump in his throat.  
"No, mam."  
"You sure about that? Because when we offered to let you stay on after your brother took off you swore no more bullshit. Don't go thinking you're hot shit just because you and your brother had a kill record, because he's not here now and without him you've got nothing." He expected the words might hit him a little harder, but instead they only serve to highlight the hollow feeling he hasn't been able to shake since Lip took off. "You've got no kill record on your own, you clearly aren't too worried about proving yourself any more responsible than your brother." She continues, and Ian has to bite back his anger at that. He has proven himself responsible, reliable, a fucking hundred times over and now after one slip up he's being treated like the last year never happened. "There are a million cadets out there who would kill, literally, to be where you are now, and a few vets, too. So I think you've gotta' tell me again, are you committed to this for real?" Ian swallows hard, telling himself over and over again that this is what matters. This world was a hell of a lot bigger than him. This is what he's always wanted, he can't throw it away now. With or without Lip.  
"I am." His voice is stronger than he feels, it does the trick. The Marshall searches his eyes for a moment, and nods. "Good." She turns on her heel and head down the hall, calling out behind her "Trials, tomorrow at eleven, I'd better see you in the training room at half-past-ten, Gallagher!"

:::

Between the Marshall telling him he's worthless without his brother and having spent the last week trying to ignore that exact fear, Ian is fuming with terrified anger and self-loathing when he rounds the corner to his room. He isn't paying any attention to what's in front of him and he runs directly into a slightly smaller, dark haired man. He steps back with a tight apology on the tip of his toungue but he catches the other man's eyes and the words get caught in his mouth. There's something catching about the other man's gaze, he holds it just a beat or two longer than normal and he's pretty sure he can read interest in the other man's eyes. The spark that ignites inside of him takes him by surprise. Then, the other man takes a step back, clears his throat and scowls, whatever strange feeling that had hung over the moment is shattered.  
"Where's the fuckin' fire?" He spits out. "Or do you ranger assholes think you're too fuckin' important to watch where the fuck you're goin'?" The other man snorts. Just like that Ian's interest is almost entirely replaced by irritation. He's too tired for this shit. He pushes past, shouldering the smaller man roughly as he goes. He half expects to hear a shout down the hall after him but instead it's just an annoyed huff and a mumbled "You fuckin' kiddin' me?" before he registers the sound of the other man continuing in the opposite direction. Ian does his best to shut down the coiling in his gut.

:::

Ian wants more than anything to fall into bed but he's never going to be able to feel clean enough to sleep if he doesn't shower first.

He turns the water as hot as he can stand it and then some. He scrubs his skin until it hurts but the pain is just enough to distract from all of the shit going on inside him, so he doesn't mind it too much. He doesn't bother putting anything on before finally falling into bed, he still feels a little lightheaded from the heat of the shower and he's really starting to feel the last week of putting his body through god-only-knows-what catching up with him. His body aches, his mind is a mess, he gives in more than readily when he feels sleep begin to tug at his conciousness. 

:::DECEMBER 25, 2024:::

Ian eyes the line of potential drift partners with a combination of dread and determination. He's resigned himself to carrying the weight of another person, that is if he's even lucky enough to find someone else he can drift with which already feels like a longshot. He knows he'll never find someone else who syncs up with him the way Lip did, how could he? He'll be lucky to sync up with anyone at all in the state he's been in. He knows that means he'll have to carry the weight of the drift, the combat, but if that's what it takes to be able to make a difference, to be here, then that's what he's going to do. 

His eyes pass over every candidate slowly, and he freezes when they land on the same pissed-off looking dark haired man from yesterday. He's surprised enough it takes him a minute to realize the other man is staring straight back at him. They hold each other's gaze for a moment and Ian's almost infuriated to see the same interested, appraising look as yesterday and even more annoyed to know he's probably got the same one trained on the dark haired man. He can feel an anticipative heat building inside of him at the thought of getting to fight him. It makes him wonder.

They obviously hadn't gotten off to a great start, but Ian is interested, more than he usually is right away, and however the other man acts he can feel that it's mutual. He knows. Maybe he won't be as unlucky as he'd anticipated.

"Candidate Hanson, Bennet, please step into the ring." Calls the Marshall. Ian takes a deep breath, focuses in on his current opponent, and goes to work.

Things go on about as well as he figured they would. He takes down each opponent with ease, they aren't bad, but none of them match up well enough to present a real challenge. The exercise is just starting to fray at his nerves, feeling hopeless and repetitive when the Marshall calls out the next name.  
"Milkovich, Mickey, step into the ring, you're up next." Ian's heart rate kicks up just a little when the dark haired man, Mickey, steps forwards. He seems to be avoiding Ian's eyes and maybe he should be annoyed but he's really just pleased. He knows he's grinning. He isn't wrong.

Mickey squares his shoulder, takes a steadying breath and finally meets Ian's eyes. He feels his grin sharpen and he can see an answering readiness in Mickey's eyes, it's almost a bit playful and he feels excitement sparking under his skin. 

"Begin." Says the Marshall. Ian drops back, right leg bent, staff held over his shoulder. Mickey goes for the offensive almost immediately. Ian twists his body away and spins the staff up under his arm to meet Mickey's blow. The first crack rings through the air like a shot sending a thrill through Ian, they push on. They're so in sync it's almost frustrating. For the first time that day Ian manages to lose himself in the fight. He forgets the room, forgets the reason they're here, the only thing on his mind is Mickey and himself and they way they move. Mickey fights hard and just a little bit dirty, but it's perfect. That's what he knows, that's how he grew up fighting, Ian knows how to do underhanded. Mickey's quicker and lighter on his feet than his appearance gives away and when he gets Ian pinned he's so stunned it takes him a moment to catch up with what just happened but when he does he grins so wide it almost hurts. 

Mickey nods down at Ian and holds out his hand, they don't wait for a signal to begin again. 

They're grappling on the floor. Ian has a leg across Mickey's waist and one around his thigh while he does his best to keep Mickey's arms locked with his without dropping his staff. He's planning on flipping Mickey as soon as he gets the chance and when he feels Mickey's body give a little he shifts forwards preparing to move and shock and thrill rock through his body when he feels Mickey pressed up against the underside of his thigh, for a moment Mickey looks terrified and Ian shifs his thigh over just slightly and he can see the moment Mickey feels his answering hardness because the intensity of his terror turns to something hungry with a desperate edge.

For a beat they stay locked like that and Ian wishes harder than anything that they weren't here in this stupid fucking room filled with a thousand other people because all he wants is to tear the other man's clothes off and fuck him until the only word he knows is Ian's name. 

Unfortunately, though, they are in a room full of people and they're there for a reason. Mickey must be quicker to catch up with the fact because his eyes sharpen and lose the dazed edge they'd held and he takes advantage of Ian's distraction and he rips out of Ian's grip, knocks the staff out of his hands and scrambles up and back quick as lightning, staff held pointedly at Ian's neck. Ian can still feel the phantom sensation of Mickey's body against his and Mickey looks skittish, Ian thinks maybe that should irritated him but instead he just feels full to bursting of something great. The anticipation of having found something essential that he didn't even realise existed to need.

"It's him." He says, as soon as he's back on his feet taking a few purposeful strides towards the marshall. "He's my new partner." 

The marshall says nothing but her silent nod is all the confirmation Ian needs, he looks back with a grin expecting to see Mickey but he only catches sight of the other man's back as he's pretty much fleeing the room. Ian looks back at the marshall, he's still in slightly hot water and he's not stupid enough to run out on the trials if she feels like they aren't done here even though he knows that they might as well be, but she simply gestures for him to go after Mickey. He practically sprints out the door.

:::

Ian just about careens into Mickey just outside his room after running after him and Mickey sputters out a few angry superlatives but still manages to avoid meeting Ian's eyes.  
"Christ, Gallagher, you fuckin' blind or something?"  
"Mickey." Ian says seriously, stepping in front of him to force Mickey to look at him. Mickey visibly tenses.  
"Move." He says.  
"What is your problem, Mickey?" Mickey bristles when Ian uses his name but Ian sees heat flash behind his eyes. "You just made ranger. That's fucking amazing, you should be at least a bit happier right now."  
"You." Mickey says, emphasising the word with a hard shove to Ian's chest. "You're my problem, Gallagher." It's impossible to miss Mickey's pointed use of Ian's last name even though he knows he's got to know his first. "Don't know when to leave well enough the fuck alone." Ian's chest tightens and he shoves Mickey back, into the wall and then crowds in closer, keeping him pinned. Mickey could struggle, Ian knows, he felt how strong Mickey is already, but he doesn't.  
"Come on, Mickey." Ian says, voice dropping lower. "Tell me what's really wrong."  
"You." Mickey repeats, but the tone conveys something completely different than before. The air between them feels electric and Ian pushes closer and barely holds back a groan at the contact between their bodies. He's leaning closer and at the last moment Mickey ducks away and drags him up the small set of stairs and into his room instead.

:::

When they're finished they both lie back on Mickey's bed, quiet, spent, and covered in sweat. Ian's head lolls over so he can look and Mickey and after a few seconds he rolls over moving closer and Mickey sits up abruptly, pushing him back.  
"Just-" He starts, shuffling off the bed and grabbing his jeans off the floor. "Just keep your fuckin' mouth shut about this, alright?" His body is already starting to regain the rigidity it held all morning. He pauses to give Ian a look, and Ian really can't tell what he's seeing behind Mickey's eyes. There's fear, but there's a lot more there too, and Ian is dying to know what's going on inside him.

When the door closes behind Mickey Ian falls back against the bed with a sigh. He's not sure if this made things better or worse, but he's absolutely not giving up.

:::

Ian's on his way to the lunch line in the cafeteria when he hears a familiar shriek that stops him in his path. He turns around just in time to be grabbed around the waist by a shock of auburn hair and he's a little startled to remember that he barely has to bend anymore to hug back.  
"Debbie!" He says.  
"It's good to see you Ian." She says, smiling up at him without moving away. He grins back and looks up to see Carl about three seconds from crashing into them and Fiona with Liam at her side and Jimmy trailing behind her. Ian winces a little at the sight of Jimmy, but reminds himself it's not a given that he's mixed up in whatever his father has been up to, so he should try to give him the benefit of the doubt. Either way, he plans to keep his mouth shut so he forces the feeling down and grabs Carl when he gets to them, ramming into Ian's side.   
"What's up?" Ian asks, wrestling him into a headlock so he can deliver a noogie. Carl bats at his arms and squirms, telling him to screw off until Ian laughs and releases him. He stumbles back, brushing a hand over his head with a huff.  
"Like you care, you're over here livin' the good life. No bullshit food rations, or classes, or homework." Carl complains, Fiona snorts from behind him.  
"As if you do your homework."  
"That's not the point." Carl grumbles. Ian laughs and steps forward to hug Fiona before bending to pick up Liam and swinging him around in a bear hug and dropping him down again, ruffling at his hair.  
"What's up, little man?" Liam grins in the blinding way only a five-year-old can manage and starts telling Ian all about school and the new lego set he got and how he's the best at sports in his whole class and Ian smiles and asks questions, letting the comfort of his family wash over him. It doesn't solve everything, they still haven't heard from Lip, but he feels a little more at ease now, a little less alone than he's been.

"So," Fiona says when they're all finally seated at one of the benches. Ian has Carl and Debbie on either side of him, Liam on his lap, and Fiona and Jimmy across from him and they've all got trays full of food. Carl is already shoveling his mouth full of beans. "Tell us about your new co-pilot, are we gonna' meet them?" Ian sighs but he can't help grinning.  
"That's a bit...complicated, actually." Fiona raises her eyebrows at him.  
"What's that mean?"  
"I just met him this morning, officially. I ran into him yesterday, we didn't get off to a great start." Fiona's gaze sharpens and she frowns a little, she doesn't press but he knows she's going to ask him about it later in private.  
"Well is he here? Point him out!" Says Debbie. Ian grins again and glances around the cafeteria.   
"Hmm." He says, scanning the room until his eyes land on Mickey. He's sitting across from a dark haired girl with pink in her bangs and his shoulders are shaking with laughter. "Just hold on a minute, sorry Debs." Ian says, pushing back and up from the table and heading straight over to Mickey.

The other man has his back turned to Ian so he doesn't see him coming, but he notices the girl's gaze flickering over him just before he reaches the table. He puts his brightest smile on, plonks himself down straight next to Mickey and offers the girl his hand.  
"Hey there, I'm Ian. Mickey's co-pilot." He feels immensely satisfied by how tense he feels Mickey go next to him. The girl is smirking while she looks between them. She takes his hand and shakes it, hard.  
"I'm Mandy, Mickey's sister." She releases his hand and kicks Mickey under the table. "Mickey you fuckin' liar." Mandy grins up at Ian. "He said you weren't around when I asked to meet his new co-pilot." Mickey huffs.  
"Well it was wishful fuckin' thinkin', wasn't it?" Ian laughs and slings an arm around Mickey's shoulders.  
"Can't get rid of me that easy, Mick." Mickey bristles at the nickname and practically dislocates a shoulder in an effort to shake him up. Mandy laughs at him.  
"So." Mandy begins. "Ian, what's my brother like as a co-pilot. He's the big hero in our family now so I need to know about what he's been fucking up."   
"Hmm." Ian says thoughtfully. "I haven't had much chance to find out yet, if you're sticking around for a while we've got a training session later you're welcome to sit in on, though." A strange look flits over Mandy's face but it's gone as quickly as it came, Ian almost wonders if he was imagining it.   
"Yeah, I'll be around for a few days. Looking forward to it." Ian smiles at her and nudges Mickey's shoulder, letting his fingers trail down his spine as he gets up. He doesn't miss the other man's shiver.   
"Alright, I've gotta' get back to my family, but it was nice meeting you, Mandy. See you later, Mickey." The other man still isn't looking at him but he's pretty sure his smirk is almost audible. Mickey grunts in response and he's pretty sure he hears Mandy snickering he walks away.

:::

Mickey is exercising a commendable amount of self control in order to not drown himself in his soup right now.  
"He's got a nice ass, huh?" Her smirk does not bode well.  
"Jesus fuckin' christ, could you just shut the fuck up, please?"  
"I'm just fuckin' sayin'."  
"Well don't. Don't fuckin' say anything."

:::

"So that's him, huh?" Fiona asks while the kids and Jimmy are up getting a second helping (he can't really blame them, it's not every day you get to be without food rationing). Ian rolls his eyes, he knows the lilt in her voice.  
"Yes, Fiona. That's him. My co-pilot. The guy who doesn't even want to breathe the same air as me."  
"You sure about that?"  
"Yes."  
"Alright, just checkin', cause he's been staring at your ass pretty hard for someone who doesn't want to be anywhere near you." Ian's cheeks heat up but that doesn't stop his eyes from snapping up to search Mickey. Whose eyes are definitely on his ass. The other man notices him staring and their eyes catch for a moment, Ian can feel the heat built up in the gaze, before it's broken and he turns back to Fiona, clearing his throat a little awkwardly.  
"Like I said, it's complicated." Fiona snorts.  
"Sure it is, kid." She kicks playfully at his shins. "If that's what they call it these days."  
"Oh god, shut up." She laughs and Ian groans but he's smiling despite himself. 

Once they're all seated again Ian lets his mind wander while he listens to everyone chattering around him. That's the useful thing about having a big family, he thinks. He can drop in and out of the conversation without anyone really noticing. He lets his mind wander to memories of intense, blue eyes and blunt nails digging into his skin. He's drifting further off, thinking and wondering about the heat in Mickey's gaze and he almost jumps when he gets a sharp punch to the ribs.  
"Dude, gross!" Carl complains loudly. "Stop thinking about man-ass." Debbie sighs on his other side.  
"Carl's right, no girl should have to see that look on her brother's face." Ian's a bit embarrassed but he ends up laughing anyway.

:::

Saying goodbye is a little harder than he expects it to be. He waves goodbye to them as their car heads down the highway and tries not to think about the tears in Fiona's eyes, the wobble in Debbie's voice, Liam clinging to his leg, or how Carl had hugged him a little tighter than normal when he left (or that he had hugged him at all, really). He doesn't think about how as good as the visit was they'd all keenly felt the absence of Lip there. He doesn't think about any of it. Instead he turns back to the shatterdome gates and tries to let himself be distracted by the bite of the cold December air against his skin.

:::DECEMBER 26, 2024:::

They're back in the practice room and Ian's doing his best to keep his frustration under control but it's not easily done. They fought yesterday and it was good, it was perfect, they'd had a connection. But now Mickey is holding back, he can feel it in every strike. Like he thinks keeping the fight reserved will keep a barrier up between them, and he's not wrong, that's exactly the problem. 

Every time Ian tries to engage Mickey manages to sidestep him and avoid his strikes, like they're playing fucking cat and mouse and Ian can't take it anymore. He throws all of his frustration into every strike, moving harder and faster and Mickey's starting to have trouble avoiding him, he's going to have no choice but to fight back, Ian's going to make sure of it. 

They're moving quick now, he's operating on determined anger and throwing every last scrap of it into his blows, driving Mickey further and further back. He can see the sweat dripping down from the other man's brow and read the building frustration in his body. He has to snap soon. His heart is pounding in his chest and his skin feels like it's on fire from the flush of it and finally he lands a hard hit across Mickey's ribs with a sharp crack and finally the dam breaks.   
"Fuck." Mickey exclaims. He's doubled over clutching at his ribs for a moment and Ian's pretty sure he hears a voice from somewhere in the room reprimanding him but he doesn't care enough to listen. It's hardly a few seconds before Mickey's back up, and lunging forwards with an angry grunt, swinging his staff hard at Ian's midsection. Ian only barely manages to twist out of the way in time before Mickey is attacking him again and this time Ian catches his staff with his own and knocks it out of the way. Mickey presses on and this time they're both well on the offensive. Ian feels the thrill running through him at having finally forced Mickey's attention, some kind of reaction from him that's honest and raw. They're hitting hard, holding nothing back and Ian is half expecting to break the staffs but he couldn't care less. The feeling he gets seeing Mickey like this, moving with him like this, unreserved and all guided by instinct, it's addicting and there's an itch already building under his skin for more.

There's a desperate, angry edge to Mickey's movements and the look in his eyes is wild. Ian knows he's probably not much better off, grinning like a loon while Mickey's trying desperately to put him down, but he can't help it. He's really starting to sweat now. They're both breathing erratically and going red in the chest. Ian's muscles are burning and he loves every last second of it.

He presses forward he can hear distant warnings in the background from their supervisor, that they aren't actually meant to be trying to kill each other, but it's tuned out easily enough behind the heat of Mickey's body radiating off him and the sound of his heart pounding in his ears and the snap of their strikes ringing through the air.

Mickey's starting to get sloppy. His movements are turning more and more desperate and Ian can feel them falling out of sync. He's a little disappointed but not surprised. It might not even be a bad thing, if Mickey breaks. Maybe that's what he needs so they can finally get past this roadblock. Finally Mickey pulls back with a frustrated shout and throws his staff on the ground. He's shaking and tugging at his hair and he looks angry as all hell. He takes a step towards Ian like he's going to punch him, but stops mid-stride and looks away instead. Ian can almost see the shutters closing, he can feel Mickey withdrawing from him.  
"Shit, Mickey!" Ian shouts, closing the distance Mickey had left between them to shove the other man hard in the chest.   
"Fuckin' what?" Mickey shouts back, but he still isn't looking at him.  
"I don't get what your problem is, but it has to stop. I don't know what the hell I have to do for you to see how important this is but it's not like you have to make it this fucking difficult. We can do this, Mickey, I know we can. Yesterday, when we fought, when we-" Something like terror flashes across Mickey's features and Ian could swear he feels his bones creaking under his grip when he grabs him.   
"Don't." He says, his voice is hushed and oh, oh this is just too much. "Don't fucking say that." Ian wants to laugh in his face but it's al little heartbreaking all the same.  
"Are you fucking kidding me, Mickey?" Ian's voice is incredulous. "You're going to sabotage the connection that could literally save the world because you don't want anyone to know where you-" Mickey fists his hands in Ian's shirt and shoves him down to the ground.  
"I said fucking shut it, Gallagher!" Ian scoffs as he pushes back up to his feet, getting straight up close in Mickey's face and looking the other man in the eyes.  
"Or what, Mickey? What're you going to do about it, huh? You can't even admit who the hell you are what could you ever-" Ian's words are cut short by Mickey's fist flying into his jaw and things deteriorate pretty rapidly from there.  
They both manage to get a few solid hits in, there's blood streaming down from Mickey's nose and Ian can already feel the bruising blooming up across his jaw. It's probably no more than a handful of seconds before they're separated but it feels longer. But there's Mandy pulling and pushing Mickey back and yelling at him but Ian can't hear the words. He's too focused on Mickey's eyes burning back into his. There's someone pushing him back away and he's nodding absently at whatever they're saying to him, he barely notices when they leave, he figures it doesn't make much difference. He's sure he'll hear from the marshall about this soon enough. 

It's some seconds before Mickey's storming out of the room and Mandy is yelling after him, calling him an idiot and a litany of other names Ian would be impressed by if he wasn't too busy trying not to tear out his hair in frustration. She turns and stalks towards him and Ian's pretty sure he's about to get a similar treatment but when she reaches him her posture deflates into a resigned frustration more than anything else.   
"Tell me, Ian, what have you done to my brother to get him to lodge his own head so fucking firmly up his ass." Ian blinks and he doesn't know if he wants to laugh or scream at the truth of it.  
"I-nothing?" It's meant to come out as a statement but he's feeling too much and too tired for his words to come out assured. He clears his throat and tries again. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me, actually." Mandy snorts.  
"Fuck if I know."

:::

Ian laughs and he's still pissed at Mickey, but he can feel the tension slowly seeping out of his bones. He's surprised by Mandy, by how easily they get along. He'd expected her to be more like her brother, which in a lot of ways she is, but she seems to understand the gravity of their situation a hell of a lot more than Mickey does. She still has what Ian is quickly coming to recognize as something of a typical Milkovich trait, preternatural stubbornness. He's itching a little to know where it comes from, but he isn't going to worry about it right now.

They're sitting in Victor's hanger, overlooking the jaeger and there are some people lingering and working on maintenence, as there always are, but for the most part they're alone. Ian's feeling pretty relaxed compared to earlier and he really does credit it to Mandy. If he'd run off to his room or stayed in the training room he'd have probably just ended up working himself into even more of a pissed off state at Mickey and fucking things up between them even more. She'd told him he looked like he needed a walk and he didn't really have any better plans, so he'd agreed. They'd been silent for the first few minutes and then she'd apologized, a little heatedly, for her brother being such an idiot. It had startled a laugh out of him and they'd ended up in the hanger, complaining about Mickey being bull-headed until the conversation had turned towards heavier subjects, the reason they're all here to begin with, and now, finally, he's here. Telling Mandy about the time Carl 'accidentally' set fire to their neighboor's shed.

It feels good, he thinks, to have someone who he feels totally at ease talking to about where he's from. It hadn't taken too long for them to figure out that they're from the same neighbourhood. It explains a lot about the two of them but mostly serves to make him even more curious.

When Mandy slides her hand up his leg he is well and truly caught off guard. He just dislocates a limb or two in his haste to pull away from the touch. Her gaze drops from predatory to stricken in a second and he can see her shutting down already. Shoulder hunching, legs pulling in close. He can practically taste the offense radiating off her.  
"What, too good for me, Gallagher?" She spits, getting to her feet. "Now that you're a pilot you think you're suddenly too good to fuck someone from our dingy fuckin-" He leaps to his feet after her and makes to grab her arm but she twists away violently. "Don't fuckin' touch me, Ian."   
"Listen." He pleads, taking a step back with his hands raised, showing clearly he won't try to stop her. "Mandy, it's not like that. For real, not at all."  
"Oh yeah?" There's still venom in his voice but she sounds cautiously willing to listen. "Then what's it like?"  
"I'm gay!" She looks a little stunned at that, but speaks slowly, anger depleating.  
"You aren't just saying that. If you don't want me you could just say so." Ian shakes his head.  
"Really, honestly I kind of just assumed you knew already. I've never made much of a secret about it. Everyone around here knows." He gestures to the dome at large. "The media probably knows, definitely has to suspect it. It never felt like such a big deal." Mandy nods. She's got a look in her eyes, it's definitely searching, he isn't positive what it means but it doesn't look particularly forebodeing, so he'll take it as a good sign.

After that things get better bit by bit, and once she's relaxed again Ian thinks there's a noteable difference between the way she was relaxed around him before versus now, and it's a good one. He gets the feeling it's been a while since she's spent time around a man who didn't want anything from her, and it makes him a little sad.

A while later Mandy suggests they head down to the cafeteria for an early dinner and Ian isn't really hungry but she's got an odd look in her eyes that he's curious about and he's enjoying her company anyway so he agrees. She's acting a little strange, scanning the room more often than is entirely normal, and Ian has a feeling he knows what's going on here. His suspicions are confirmed when they've grabbed their trays and Mandy turns to grin at him before heading directly towards Mickey, who doesn't seem to have noticed them yet. Ian sighs and isn't sure whether he's grateful that she's trying to help or kind of annoyed. He knows they have another training session after dinner to make up for the one they bombed earlier, but he'd been really hoping not to let the other man sour his mood just yet. Mickey looks up and a strange expression flits over his face before it settles into something sour, his lips pursed and twisted slightly down at the edges. Ian pulls his shoulders up and tells himself at least Mickey doesn't look angry, they've got to find a way around this.

They sit down and Ian greets Mickey as neutrally as he can manage and gets a terse grunt in reply. He bites back a sigh. Mandy gives up the ghost about five minutes in, gestures sharply between the two of them with her fork and tells them to grow the fuck up, and pushes back from the table, abandoning the rest of her food. Mickey snorts, rolls his eyes and steals her pudding cup while Ian watches her go. After a moment he looks back to Mickey who is pointedly not looking at him. He clears his throat, feeling suddenly awkward.  
"Listen, Mickey," He begins. Mickey doesn't look up at him but he stills. "I know you're-" He stumbles over his words a little when Mickey's eye snap up to his, nervous. "You're struggling with some -shit." He finishes, somewhat lamely. Mickey's eyes stay on his but they lose some of their alarm, he takes that as a good sign. "But you know, you've gotta' know, this is a lot bigger than you or me." Mickey clenches his fist and looks down at his tray like it'll give him the answers to all his problems, but he's not leaving, so that's good.  
"Look, I-" He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise before looking back up to Ian. "It's just a lot more fuckin' complicated than that, alright? I wish it wasn't, but it is. I don't got anything else to tell you."  
"You could tell me why it's so complicated." Ian suggests, trying to make the statement as innocuous as possible even though they'll both know it's anything but. Mickey frowns but his face isn't actually angry. It's not what Ian had expected.  
"I really couldn't." His voice is almost sad, but he huffs after, pulling pack and boistering a little. "Besides, even if I couldn't it's none of your fuckin' business." And there it is again, the root of this fucking block between them.   
"Actually," Ian corrects. "It is, Mickey. It really is my business because we're going to drift and if that drift isn't at one-hundred percent we're gonna' end up fucking dead in the water. Literally." He clenches his jaw, he should probably stop, but he really doesn't want to. "And you know what? That's gonna be on you. And all of the people who end up dead because we went down, that's on you, too. So I hope it's worth your fucking dirty little secret, Mickey, all of those lives." Mickey blanches and some part of Ian is grimly satisfied at the reaction.  
"Fuck you." Mickey spits out. Ian laughs.  
"That's probably about as close to admitting the truth as you're gonna' get, huh'?" He can't keep the bitterness he feels from infecting his tone.  
"You lookin' to get punched, Gallagher?" Ian holds his hands up, already getting to his feet.  
"Don't even bother, Mickey, this is clearly a lost cause."  
"Fuck this." Mickey growls, mostly to himself, he's on his feet and they're both storming out in opposite directions.

:::

They're due back in the sparring room in less than an hour and Mickey is nervous and angry and frustrated and just generally a fuckin' mess. He's got to get his shit together before it's time for their next session and he doesn't even know where the fuck to start. There's something about Ian that seriously unsettles Mickey. It's not that Mickey is attracted to him, he knows what he is, he's known forever. It definitely doesn't help, but it's not the problem. There's something about Ian that gets under his skin way too easily and fucking stays there, like he can't shake the lingering feeling of his presence. It's fucked. 

He's fucked.

So, totally fucked.

:::

He walks into the sparring room and Ian's there, already, waiting for him. He squares his shoulders when he sees him and moves into position in the middle of the floor. Mickey takes a deep breath and tells himself to get a grip. He slips off his shoes and grabs a staff from the wall before walking over to meet Ian, leaving a few metres of distance between them. Ian's eyes are focused on him with an intensity that's unsettling in more ways than Mickey cares to acknowlegde. There's a lot of feeling there, and it's restrained, but it shows through. Anger is definitely not the least of them.

They're told to begin and this time Ian strikes first. Quick and without warning. Mickey stumbles the barest bit when he twists out of the way but Ian's sharp and takes advantage of the momentary stumble, driving his body forward quick and sending him off balance. He regains his balance at the last moment and manages a hit to Ian's calf, nearly knocking the redhead's legs out from under him. Ian jumps back and it gives Mickey the chance to thrust forwards with his staff and try to catch him off guard but Ian ducks out of the way and sidesteps him, catching him hard across the back half a second later. They step back and begin again.

Spinning, side-stepping, swinging, they go on at a dizzying pace. Mickey is feeling hard pressed not to let himself become distracted. He's trying to let himself be open to the fight, let things flow naturally, but this time Ian is on a war-path and Mickey is caught up trying to find a middle ground between letting Ian in dangerously close and letting him in enough to find a compatibility that will actually work for them. He's starting to suspect it's not going to happen and it's deeply unsettling to him. Mickey finds himself pinned and it's too much to take, he's already feeling too distressed internally about his options and the physical closeness of Ian sets him off without thought. He slams a knee upwards into Ian's sternum and it isn't long until they're being pulled off each other and he can feel new bruises blooming next to the still-new ones from earlier.

"Gallagher, Milkovhich!" Comes the Marshall's extremely displeased voice from beside them. Her tone is full of barely contained frustration. "Come with me." She demands before turning and stalking out of the room. They both follow without looking at each other.

:::

Once they're all in her office, door shut firmly behind them, she stares at them both from behind her desk. Ian stands at attention, hands locked behind his back and eyes straight forward, blank expression. Mickey stands slouched but attentive, unable to stop fidgeting, he's sorely tempted to look over at the redhead next to him and thanks the aches running through his body for the distraction that stops him. He keeps his eyes trained on the Marshall.

"I don't think you two quite understand the severity of our situation." She says. Mickey says nothing, but he wants to roll his eyes.  
"With all due respect, Marshall, I-" Ian begins.  
"With all due respect, Ranger," She cuts him off sharply. "I do not want to hear any of your excuses. You and Ranger Milkovich excell in drift compatibility scores and the first day you fought it was clear why, and yet you have thus far insisted on failing at every turn, behaving like children rather than the men who are expected to lead us to a better, safer tomorrow." Ian lets out a frustrated noise.  
"I've tried-" He starts out, angrily.  
"No." The Marshall speaks over him. "I'm pretty sure I just finished explaining that I have no interest in excuses, Gallagher." She gives him a stern look before turning to face the large display on the wall behind her. It's a digital display of shatterdomes, kaiju, breach signatures, and any other information that might need to be known at the drop of a hat. She stares silently for a moment before turning back to them, her features haven't softened any, but they've fallen a bit.  
"The fact, gentlemen, is that six shatterdomes have already been shut down," Something somber falls over the entire room. They've all known that the jaeger program has been having it's funding cut slowly in favour of the wall for a while now, but having it spelled out for them like this is a painful reality. "With another due to shut down three days from now. If we can't get it together, quickly, we aren't just looking at a bleak future, we're looking at a lack of one." Something bubbles up inside of Mickey and explodes. All he's hearing is that they're fucked, they're hopeless.  
"Well, fuck it then!" He shouts. "Guess we might as kiss our asses goodye then, huh? That's what you're sayin', aint' it? We're fucked, we're all gonna' fuckin' die and there ain't shit we can do about it." The Marshall's eyes narrow, but it's with something that looks more determined than angry, which is a surprise.

"Actually, Milkovich, that is exactly the opposite of what I'm saying." There's something in her voice that gives them both pause, and for the first time Ian and he exchange a look. Trepadation, curiosity, hope. Mickey chooses not to think too much into the relief he feels at the lack of anger, however temporary. They turn their attentions back to the Marshall.  
"I've got a plan." 

She explains and it's not bad, but it sounds pretty familiar. They're going to strap a nuke to Victor's back and send a three jaeger team down to the breach where they'll drop the payload and scram. It's not bad on paper, but Mickey's pretty sure they've tried something similar before, and clearly it hasn't worked. Judging by the look on Ian's face he's not mistaken.  
"We've tried that before." Says Ian, dropping the titles. "It didn't work, what's so different this time?"  
"Knowlwdge, Gallagher. We've had our science department" Mickey snorts, their science department consists of one crazy, neurotic bio-chemical engineer and one nuclear physicist who spends more time on his ass gaming than he does fuckin' standing. The Marshall gives him a pointed glare before continuing. "We've had our science department running tests on the energy signals and biological chemistry from the breach and surrounding area as well as the Kaiju specimens we've managed to salvage, they believe that they've come up with a solution that will be fully confirmed in time for D-Day."  
"Well what's the fuckin' solution, then?" Mickey asks.  
"Confidential, for the time being, Ranger." Mickey snorts.  
"That's fuckin' bullshit. We're the ones supposed to strap a fucking nuclear bomb to our backs, don'tcha think we oughtta' at least know why that's supposed to turn out as anything besides a fuckin' collossal clusterfuck'?"  
"Do I need to remind you to watch the way you speak to me, Milkovich? There's a certain amount of respect due between ranks and you are far from following it." The Marshall warns. They stare at each other tersely, Mickey refuses to fuckin' apologise when all he's asking is to have a little reassurance that she's not sending them on a definitively futile suicide mission.  
"I think," Ian interrupts, trying his best to break the tension filling the small room. "What Mickey is trying to say, is that it would be nice, if this is really our last shot, to at least have a little reassurance that it might work going in."

The Marshall stares hard between the two of them, but eventually she relents. Her shoulders fall slightly and she lets out a tired sigh.  
"I understand, truly. I can't give you the answers that you want." Mickey's ready to flip again but Ian's hand comes down on his shoulder, he snaps to look over at him but the look in Ian's eyes is steadying, pleading for patience, not agressive. Mickey takes a deep breath and turns back to the Marshall, pointedly ignoring the fact that he hasn't shaken off Ian's hand. "What I can tell you," She continues "Is that we've been testing via some rather...unorthodox means." Mickey thinks you don't need to be a genius to know unorthodox is code for illegal. "And because of that until we have definitive results things must be kept as confidential as possible. But I promise you," She does her best to look and sound reassuring. "You will be the first to know when the time comes." Ian nods and drops his hand, Mickey pretends not to focus too much on the way the skin he touched seems to burn. He's guessing this is the best they're going to get, for now, so he nods as well.  
"Alright."

:::

They're leaving the office and Ian stops him, pulling him by the arm. Mickey lets him.  
"Listen," Ian begins, Mickey already knows what he's about to say.  
"We should practice again." Ian looks surprised, like he wants to say more, but instead he just bites his lip.  
"Yeah." Mickey nods.  
"Just gimme' ten minutes, yeah?" Ian nods.  
"Okay." He drops Mickey's arm and they stand there for a moment, awkward, until Mickey turns and walks away. He's not positive but he's pretty sure Ian watches him until he rounds the corner.

:::

Mickey sits on the edge of his bed and tries, sincerely, to figure out what the hell he should do. He knows, clearly, that something has to change. The Marshall is right, shit is getting real and they can't keep dicking around, he knows he's the one fucking things up between them and he's gotta' find a way around it. There's some shit in his life that he's just...gotta' keep to himself. It's survival for him. Where he's grown up, with his family, you play your cards close to the chest if you wanna' survive, and he gets that he's gotta' let some of that go if this is going to work, but he can't do it with everything. He just can't. But the least he can do is maybe let this thing between them be acknowledged and see where that gets them. They've just gotta' keep it quiet.

:::

Ian heads into the training room and for once, neither of them are bent on fucking up the other one. It's good. They're both relaxed, and focused. Thinking outside of themselves, outside of this room. They assume their stances, and then they both move forward they move in a way Mickey has sorely missed. It's better, more in sync, more connected than they've fought so far and Mickey wonders how he can miss something he never had. He thinks it's probably because the whole time he's known, they both have, that they could have more, so much more.

This time when they fight the air is charged with the thrill of knowing they're both in this together. Working as paralell forces rather than opposing. It makes all of the difference and Ian can hardly believe the strength of it. He knew, he always knew they could have this, he knows that if Mickey would just give up the ghost they could have even more. But this is definitely a step in the right direction. Ian hasn't felt this well in touch and in sync with another person since he and Lip last drifted, and the nervous energy that comes with being on the brink of something huge and for so long thought to be untouchable fills him and extends in every movement, seeming to flow from him and on to Mickey. 

They're feeding off each other and Ian can feel the sweat dripping from his brow and his muscles burning and christ, how he's fucking missed that feeling. He can't help anticipating the drift. Mickey knocks him down and afterwards extends a hand to help him back up. They're about to resume when someone clears their throat pointedly from the sidelines of the room and they both look over, only somewhat surprised to see Marshall Johnson staring back at them. She nods.  
"Good work, rangers." It's not complete appeasal, but it's a hell of an improvement since this afternoon. That's for sure. They look back to each other once she leaves and Mickey's grinning at him, unguarded for the first time and Ian finds he's so taken by surprise that it's infectious. He grins back and speaks.  
"Come on, get ready old man, I'm gonna' put you in the dirt." Mickey snorts in amusment but assumes the ready stance.  
"Who you fuckin' callin' old? Just because you look like a fuckin' twelve year old don't mean the rest of us gotta'." There's something wicked in Mickey's grin that twists low in Ian's gut. "Besides," He continues. "I'm pretty sure I'm the one who's got you on your fuckin' back twice in the last hour." Ian bites his lip, and fuck, he knows this could be a supremely bad idea and easily erase the progress they seem to have made, but there's no one else in the room and he just can't help himself.  
"That might be true, but I had you on your knees last night." For a second Mickey's eyebrows rise so high they look like they might fall right off his face but then he responds without any of the venom Ian fears.  
"You're just lookin' for an ass kickin', arent'cha?" And Ian's pretty sure that if he grins any harder he'll split his face in two.

:::

When there's a knock on his room door a couple hours after dinner Ian grins. He'd been hoping Mickey would show up. He strips off his shirt quickly, tosses it on the bed and puts on his best sultry smirk to open the door where all of his intentions shrivel immediately when he sees Mandy waiting on the otherside. She raises a brow and grins.   
"Waiting for someone?" Ian blushes and shrinks in on himself a bit, moving hastily to grab his shirt and pull it on, leaving the door open for Mandy. She come in and closes it behind her, laughing.   
"You're both ridiculous, I hope you know that." He gives her his best oblivious smile.  
"I have no idea what you're talking about." She rolls her eyes at him before flopping down onto his bed.   
"Sure you don't." He grins down at her before flopping down next to her, both of their legs dangling off the side of the bed. He'd be lying if he said he isn't a little disappointed Mickey hasn't shown up, but he likes Mandy. She feels like someone who could be important to him. 

"So," He begins. "What's up." For a moment Mandy doesn't say anything, and the silence stretches on long enough Ian starts to wonder if she's going to bother saying anything at all when she speaks.  
"I'm glad we met you." He smiles. "I'm just sayin', you hear a lot of things about rangers, and we're already used to people bein' a bit...strange, about us. But you, you aren't an asshole. I'm just glad it was you."  
"Thanks." He says, and they lapse into silence again for a minute or two.  
"He'll never fuckin' say it, but he's glad too." Ian grins.  
"Is that so."  
"Definitely. I know my idiot brother well enough to know when his stupid ass is happy about something, and he's happy about you." Ian's not sure what to say to that, it was a little more than he expected to hear out of her, so he doesn't say anything.

They stay up talking for another two hours, eventually slipping off their shoes and making it into bed, and it's strangely comfortable. Ian's never been close like this to another person, but really he's always been too wrapped up with his family and getting into trouble with Lip to have many friends, so he guesses maybe it's not so surprising. When both of their eyes are starting to droop and their words are starting to come out muffled by tiredness, Mandy talks about her family. Ian had known that wherever they came from their family had to be a little fucked up, it was obvious. But, now, he's starting to understand that it was a lot worse than he'd imagined. He'd always imagined his own family was pretty fucked up, but they never hurt each other. Except Frank, but even him, compared to Mandy's father, he'd never done anything to them like what happened to her. 

She tells him about how he tells her she's beautiful like her mother before he touches her and how it makes her sick, but he's her father and he's not beating her like he does her brothers so she lets it happens and as soon as he passes out on top of her she pushes away and stays under the shower and scrubs until she's red all over and it's almost, but never quite, enough to remove the feeling of his hands on her skin. She talks about the men she's with, and how she lets them treat her because all she wants is a fuckin' distraction so who really cares about that shit. She talks about her brothers and how she's sure that Tony and Iggy woul beat someone up for her if she asked them to, but how Mickey's the only one who's ever given a shit about how she actually feels, and even then, it's not like they can really talk about it. It's not like either of them would be able to change it, so they don't really bother at all.

He holds her a little closer, and he can see now, why she seems so eager for this connection between them, because she's had even less experience with having anyone to truly call a friend than he has. 

When she finally trails off he can hear the little warble in her voice and he tells her quietly that nothing she tells him is going to change his opinion of her. She's his friend, and that's all that matters to him. She laughs and calls him a sap but he can tell she's grateful for it. He starts telling her stories about growing up, just stupid little things they did, mostly he and Lip, and occasionally Fiona when she still got to be young sometimes. He wants her to fall asleep focussed on something less sad, and he thinks he's doing a pretty good job distracting her, and even himself. He catches himself laughing a few times, caught up in the memories and he aches for his family but with Mandy here to laugh with him it hurts a little less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm coucourfeyrac on tumblr. Come hang out, or yell at me, or cry at me, or whatever, just no hate :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Coucourfeyrac on tumblr if you want to come cry about dumb kids who can't manage their feelings.


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